


Chromatic/Monotone

by kingkageyama



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Color Blindness, Future Fic, M/M, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-10 18:26:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4402529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingkageyama/pseuds/kingkageyama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi's life has always been hyper-saturated, multi-coloured, and ever-changing. Who would have guessed that this Bokuto, draped in monotone, would have brought such a brilliant colour into his life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunglow

**Author's Note:**

> Please be gentle, this is the first fic I've actually ever posted. Kind of a brief intro, but I've got some plans coming down the pipe!

                The world has always been bright flashes of colour, fireworks exploding in varying hues of green and blue. Swirling, mixing colours that churned together and licked the edges of his vision with the slight tap of a pen or the creak of a foot on an aging stair. At times, the colours would appear in staccato, there one moment  with a knock on the door– a startling scarlet blot in his vision – and gone the next. Other times the colours receded and rushed forward, an advancing ocean of colour with bubbling laughter on a street corner. This life was hyper-chromatic, but it was his alone. Few others knew how the drip of a coffee maker could paint the world the colour of the carpet in his childhood home, or how a smile from a stranger could be the soft violet that was the edge of a winter sunrise.

                Although people were confused by it, Akaashi never felt the colours were something that were chaotic or jumbled . Well, as long as he didn’t try to explain them. Trying to clarify to a prying stranger why the screeching of the trains breaking on the tracks was an unpleasant orange or why a well-played piano brought forth the colours of a lush forest was nearly impossible. To him, the colours made sense. They added a layer to already coloured world, adding an extra dimension and feel to his experience. They were not necessary to understand his surroundings, but rather they acted in a completely complementary manner – allowing him to better understand the world everyone else saw. Without the colours, Akaashi felt that he would likely be more confused with how to act around people than he already was. No, his constantly tinted world didn’t bother him in the least, but it did leave him craving time alone.  Not only to avoid prying questions about describing the colours and patterns he saw, but to give his mind a moment from the constant whorl of colours. He took solace in the quiet of his apartment, or the soft ambience of a coffee shop or library that would leave a soft coloured blur to his vision instead of a fantastic pyrotechnic show, flames licking through his vision.

                It was that desire for a moment of quiet in his life that led him to the cafe. There was no shortage of them on or around the campus, and Akaashi was surely no stranger to caffeine-serving establishments given his  difficult (and perhaps inadvisable) career path. It was with a soft cascading chime - the colour of lavender bushes not yet in full bloom - that he stepped into the unfamilliar cafe. Warmth washed over him as he rubbed his gloved hands together, chilly from the winter air despite the extra clothing.  The warming huff of his breath over his defrosting hands sent a warm glow over his hands and a brown-red  haze over his vision.  Knocking the slight collection of snow off the heels of his boots, he glanced quickly towards the menu (although the point was moot, he was horribly stuck in his Americano-gulping ways). Stepping towards the counter, Akaashi pulled down the burgundy woolen scarf that had shielded his face from the icy breeze, the warm air of the coffee shop stinging his face in way that was not entirely unpleasant. With each step forward, the barista in front of him straightened his form that had been dramatically slouched in front of the cash machine.  A wild black head of hair contrasted with lazy, cat-like eyes and a sly grin that could almost be seen as unsettling.

                “And what can we whip up for you today?” the barista drawled with the smirk still on his face.

                “An Americano, please” Akaashi replied politely, mouth remaining the flat line he tried so hard to maintain. He lived in constant fear of being too curt, or too friendly, or too _anything_ to people he didn’t know, which resulted in him adopting a neutral face around strangers. Perhaps not the most friendly of facades to put on, but by far one of the least embarrassing in the long run. Or at least that’s what Akaashi had convinced himself. After passing some change to the man behind the till, he let his eyes trail over the café.

                But it wasn’t the grinning feline bartender taking his order that caught his eye, though the smooth curl of his voice brought a deep plum over his vision. It wasn’t even the cacophony of colours brought about by the whirring of the machine used to grind his coffee.  It was the man behind the coffee bar, one Akaashi had allow slip out of his notice as he ordered but could not tear his eyes away from now. The man was all smiles and fluid, extravagant movements. His motions were boisterous and confident, the look in his eyes almost as wild as the tufts of silver-black hair peaking off his head as he chuckled at some comment the cat-eyed barista had let slip a moment before.  He grinned, all teeth and scrunched eyes as he manoeuvered behind the counter. His smile was a warm yellow - almost liquid gold – that matched his eyes. It was rare – but not uncommon – that a person would envoke a flow of colours into Akaashi’s vision. He chose not to dwell on what that could mean.

               With that thought, the golden pools peaked up over the edge of the bar as the barista hunched over. Akaashi’s breath caught in his throat, seemingly tight from absolutely nothing at all, as he met the striking golden eyes with his own dark ones. He held his gaze for what was likely (no, at this point undoubtedly) too long to be considered normal and shifted his eyes quickly downward, an unfortunate habit that came from his perpetual discomfort with social situations. It was a miracle he had held eye contact for as long as he did. _It was probably unnerving,_ Akaashi thought to himself, _I shouldn’t have stared._

                However, the self-depreciating thoughts that continued to enter his mind seemed to be continually washed away with a strange desire to look back up at the man. With some sort of newfound confidence Akaashi dared to gaze over the bar again, the cat-eyed bartender leaning over to the other man, murmuring something too hushed for Akaashi to pick up on. Still focused on making the coffee in front of him, the silver haired man glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows arched ferociously, to the slightly taller man as he walked away. “Oh ho ho?” he chuckled out, a hushed noise that still managed to demand attention. The black haired barista glanced back, eyes narrowing and sly smirk spreading.

                “Oh ho ho~” he cooed, in a way that made Akaashi think it was almost a reply. Akaashi felt the sides of his mouth slip downward into a frown, feeling as if he had missed some important part of the conversation – something that fell between the chuckling exhales of the boisterous baristas.  He was shaken abruptly out of his thoughts by the man bringing his coffee over to the ledge.

                “Aaaand an Americano” the barista called out with a smile, eyes locking with Akaashi as he gently held the coffee cup outwards.  As he reached out for the cup, he could see the man’s face twist as if in deep though before he visibly shook himself out of it, chest puffing out. As the cup was exchanged, the barista aggressively jabbed his thumb towards the nametag on his apron. “Name’s Bokuto by the way. S’a  pleasure to make your coffee. And you are…?”

                With the words that escaped Bokuto’s mouth, Akaashi's chest tightened, breathing seemed impossible and words were more than he could comprehend.  His eyes widened as he took in at the swirling whorls that crossed his vision with the animated sound of Bokuto’s voice . The tendrils curled together like milk poured in hot coffee left to settle instead of stirred in quickly. With the oversaturation of colour in Akaashi’s life, he found it rare that something as simple as a colour could take his breath away – and yet it had happened.   _Oh_ , Akaashi thought to himself, mouth opening slightly in awe.

                And all too soon, the colour was gone.

                Something he wished for all too frequently.

                He would really, _really_ take back all of those wishes if he could now.

                Attempting to regain his composure, Akaashi clenched and unclenched the hand at his side, breathing deeply as he attempted to form words in his mouth. Realizing that he had been staring into what would seem to others like empty space for quite some time, the words tumbled out. “Akaashi. My name’s Akaashi.”

                “Hey hey heeeey! Akaashi! Wow, that’s a really cool name! Anyways, Bokuto Koutarou – I told you that already. Ah, that whole ‘think before you speak’ thing always gets around me, huh? I’ll see you around here Akaashi-san!” hooted Bokuto, hand sliding through messy silver locks.

                “Yes, I will see you too, Bokuto-san” replied Akaashi softly. He gave a gentle nod before taking in the man in front of him one more time. The sleek black and white uniform under the long black apron gave him a professional look, though the silvery-black hair tumbling carelessly in front of his face hinted at the true nature of his youth. _Young on the outside and the inside_ , Akaashi thought to himself. Almost as if on cue, Bokuto draped himself over the other barista’s shoulders dramatically, laughing and grinning as wide as he could. Akaashi turned and began to glide towards a table at the back of the café, away from windows that would undoubtedly make him uncomfortable. Sitting at the table, cradling the warm drink in his hand, he contemplated his situation. He sipped at coffee, still painfully hot, and allowed the smooth, bitter liquid to coat his tongue. He swallowed gently, exhaling.

                Who would have guessed that a man, draped in monotone, would have brought such a brilliant colour into his already chromatic life?


	2. Wisteria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smooth lavender hues of the café’s cascading door chime rushing forward in Akaashi’s vision became part of his daily routine. This, along with Bokuto’s boisterous greetings of ‘Hey hey heeey Akaashi’ nestled themselves in among his daily routine comfortably. If pushed to answer why he chose the slightly run-down, out-of-the-way coffee joint run by a couple of men lacking in both finesse and maturity, he would likely attempt to save his pride and argue that their coffee was some of the best on campus. The reality – although it was a reality he hadn’t admitted to anyone and didn’t like to dwell on too much – was that Akaashi had found himself growing really, really (almost ashamedly) interested in Bokuto Koutarou and the swirling colours of his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A two week update was /so/ not what I intended to do with this, but life gets in the way sometimes. Anyways, a bit of a filler chapter, but hopefully not too filler-ey (and a fair bit longer than the last one I posted).
> 
> Also, I will now refer to every horrible mistake I make in one of these as an "artistic choice", so given all the mistakes in here I must be really really artistic.

      Although he never would have guessed at the sudden change, it wasn’t long before thee smooth lavender hues of the café’s cascading door chime rushing forward in Akaashi’s vision became part of his daily routine. This, along with Bokuto’s boisterous greetings of ‘Hey hey heeey Akaashi’ nestled themselves in among his daily routine comfortably. It wasn’t that Akaashi didn’t have a tendency to fall into these sorts of routines – on the contrary he found it comfortable and predictable to know that Wednesday was laundry day, or that a warm cup of green tea would find its way into his hands daily at 7pm _sharp_. However, when coffee was on the table he found that convenience tended to overrule routine. The late nights spent finalizing lab reports or reviewing class material left him stumbling into whatever caffeine-distributing establishment was closest to him. Despite the fact that these caffeine fixes were usually as-needed and obtained wherever possible, he found himself drawn to the Night Owl twice a day for his fix.

      His morning visits were always quieter ones, his eyes still bleary from sleep (or more likely the lack thereof) as he trudged to his 8am class. The voices in the café were softer in the morning and even the usually deep plum of Kuroo’s voice was less intense, blending smoothly with the rushing steel colour brought up by the whirr of the coffee grinders instead of staining Akaashi’s vision like spilled wine. It was during these morning visits that Akaashi learned that Bokuto was very _very_ likely not a morning person. The Bokuto that lazily fixed his coffee in the morning was far different than the Bokuto who shot around the counter in the afternoons. The first – and most apparent – difference was his usually extravagantly spiked hair. Early in the mornings the silver hair would instead tumble over his eyes, leading Bokuto to push it out of his eyes with the back of his hand when it got in the way. Akaashi assumed that the time needed to carefully craft his spikes was abandoned in the morning in favour of fifteen extra minutes of sleep.

      Akaashi enjoyed these morning visits. He liked the way that Bokuto’s already molten gold eyes shone a shade deeper when still dusted with sleep. He liked the way that Bokuto’s smile was more delicate in the mornings and the way that even his words were softer – making the routine morning coffee exchange almost more personal with the slightly hushed words and the raspiness of their voices. He especially liked the way that their hands would sometimes brush with the exchange of a warm cup, too tired to be pulled away abruptly. Akaashi refused to admit that any of these things brought a slight blush of rose to his cheek. Although these morning visits were pleasant and soft and _relaxing,_ Akaashi learned that Bokuto’s personality – much like his hair – perked up sometime between this visit and the next.

      His afternoon visits were more…adventurous? Any word Akaashi tried to connect to the experience never quite seemed to capture the dynamics of his 2pm visits. When he visited at this hour, it was quite apparent that both Kuroo and Bokuto were nearing the end of their shifts as the two bubbled with anticipation at the thought of being freed from work for the evening. The Bokuto Akaashi saw at these times was worlds apart from the morning Bokuto, but Akaashi begrudgingly acknowledged that he liked this one just the same. Sometime over the course of the day Bokuto would take the time to spike his hair into what could only be described as…horns? The meticulously styled spikes shot up over the course of the day along with Bokuto’s energy and by the time Akaashi arrived for the second time he could see the increased liveliness. Instead of a soft, dull ebb and flow of hues that came with the morning visits, the colours of Kuroo and Bokuto’s voices would splash violently across his vision, blending together with their entwined laughter at some undoubtedly ridiculous pun. The splash of colours didn’t bother him; instead he happily took in the new patterns and flows that came with each new conversation he’d overhear from the two.

      On more than one occasion Akaashi had walked into the café and caught the end of some stunt the two were pulling – undoubtedly breaking more than a few health and safety rules in the process. Most recently, he had walked in on an attempt Bokuto was making to jump from the front counter onto Kuroo’s back – incredibly unsuccessfully. He couldn’t help but allow the colour of his own laughter – a soft, silvery grey -  to intertwine with the uproar of Kuroo’s laugh mixed with Bokuto’s pained whine.  Despite the increased noise in the café as the afternoon went on, Akaashi spent his second visit in the back of the shop, flipping through his course note as the hour passed by. In addition to his visits becoming routine, it had also become habit that without asking, Bokuto would jump at the chance to replace the mug that slowly emptied beside Akaashi with one filled to the brim with some caffeinated drink. This was generally accompanied by Kuroo yelling at him to stop giving away free drinks while whipping a drying cloth at the back of his head. Most of the time the drink was his usual order, but on occasion Akaashi would find it filled with something he couldn’t even identify. The drink always seemed to end up delicious (and he really didn’t know how Bokuto managed to do it). And so, Akaashi would spend an hour in the café working quietly, sometimes exchanging a smile with Bokuto as the other man finished his shift – catching portions of his and Kuroo’s loud conversations whenever Bokuto would let out a particularly boisterous laugh. And Akaashi came to enjoy it.

      So, despite the fact that the Night Owl was not by any means “on the way” to any of his classes or his apartment, Akaashi found himself frequenting the café more and more. If pushed to answer _why_ he chose the slightly run-down, out-of-the-way coffee joint run by a couple of men lacking in both finesse and maturity, he would likely attempt to save his pride and argue that their coffee was some of the best on campus. The reality – although it was a reality he hadn’t admitted to anyone and didn’t like to dwell on too much – was that Akaashi had found himself growing really, _really_ (almost ashamedly) interested in Bokuto Koutarou. It was a new feeling, although he hated to admit it. It hadn’t happened immediately, not some sort of crazy love-at-first sight. He couldn’t deny that he had been entranced by the flowing green-blues of Bokuto’s voice, but it hadn’t been some insane immediate infatuation. No, he preferred to think of it as more of an I-guess-I-kind-of-like-you at first sight thing that grew into an I-definitely-like-you-now kind of thing. This fact lead to visits that were more and more numerous. It was confusing, at first. For as long as Akaashi could remember he had enjoyed being by himself, he was uncomfortable with the thought of too many people looking at him or even _listening_ to him, so he tended to keep to himself. The distance he put between people for his own comfort tended to leave him feeling detached, interacting with people but not really knowing how to _know_ people. But Akaashi wanted to know Bokuto. To Akaashi, this was more than a bit frustrating and incredibly confusing.

      Akaashi shook the confusion from his head as he pushed his way through the creaking door of the café – his 2pm visit beginning with the blooming lavender-violet of the chime that became more and more familiar. As was the usual with every visit, his routine greeting followed – a deep “Hey hey heey Akaashi!”. He noted from the colours seeping into his vision that this greeting was uttered by a different voice, a mockery of the usual tone soaked in a deep wine colour not usually associated with the words. A soft _thud_ followed the greeting, the sound of Bokuto’s fist colliding with Kuroo’s bicep.

      “Bro! That’s my line!” He complained loudly, turning to Akaashi and flashing one of his signature, giant smiles. Along with the smile, Akaashi took time to watch the swirling pools of aqua and deep forest green that came along with Bokuto’s voice. The ebb and flow like a gradually receding tide was comforting to him. Akaashi stepped forward to the counter, attempting to ignore the borderline-fistfight beginning behind the counter as he rooted through his pocket for spare change, fingers skimming over the coins.

      “Good afternoon, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi said flatly as he placed the change on the counter and sliding it forwards for Bokuto to take. Although he was fond of Bokuto, he was still unsure of whether or not physical contact was his favourite thing.

      “Heeey Akaashi! It’s awesome to see you again. Anyways, I gotta tell you what I did to Kuroo this afternoon oh man!” Bokuto started as Akaashi turned to Kuroo to register his response to the story. Kuroo’s face twisted up in mock disgust as Bokuto’s face slid into a sly grin, one clearly meant to imitate the one that frequented Kuroo’s face. “So I was done making some espresso right? And when you’re done with it the packed up espresso kinda looks like the brownies we sell and then boom! I was like ‘Oh man I’ve got the best idea’. So I put it on a napkin and put some caramel sauce on it to really seal the deal and I was like ‘Kuroo, bro, I saved a snack for you since I knew you were hungry.’ And he just looks at me like ‘ _Bro_ ’, really touched and all that, and then takes a huge bite out of it and just freezes cause he can obviously tell it’s _not brownie_ at this point and oh man Akaashi! It was great.” Bokuto mused, leaning over the counter slightly and gesturing wildly to weave the tale properly. Bokuto was dynamic in everything he did, Akaashi noted.

      “You betrayed my trust, bro. You BRO-ke my heart.” Kuroo wailed mockingly, grasping the front of his shirt as if in pain. “Anyways,” Kuroo continued, whacking Bokuto’s back with a cloth, “get back to work.” Bokuto sighed dramatically before retreating back behind the numerous machines, preparing Akaashi’s drink. Akaashi watched on for a moment – he hoped it wasn’t too long – as Bokuto worked. He wasn’t graceful per se, but he did have a confidence in his movements that made him almost seem graceful. He watched Bokuto’s toothy grin as it spread across his face, scrunching his eyes at the corner.

      Akaashi pulled his eyes away from the other man as he slid quietly to the back of the café, coming to a table at the back corner nestled just beside the coffee bar. He half-heartedly opened his notes and settled at the table – the one that had become unmistakably “his” over the past few weeks. He flipped absentmindedly through the days notes, truthfully more interested in watching Bokuto out of the corner of his eye. A smile was almost always spread across Bokuto’s face, and it made it seem l like he was continually laughing at some joke he’d told himself. When he thought about it, Akaashi was fairly sure that’s something Bokuto would actually _do_ , and he smiled to himself at the thought of Bokuto making cheap puns to himself. He felt the smile warm his cheeks slightly, glancing back down to his notes again as Bokuto slid from behind the bar and bounced over to his table. He slid the mug full of piping coffee towards Akaashi, while simultaneously sliding himself into the seat across from the black-haired man, leg bouncing anxiously.

      Bokuto furrowed his brows, briefly in thought, before opening his mouth. “Are you studying again? You study a lot, ya know that right? I mean hey, that’s not a bad thing! I’d probably do way way _way_ better in my classes if I actually _liked_ studying, but I don’t like it so I don’t do it I guess!” Bokuto half asked, half stated. “You could always skip studying for a day if you wanted to? Or maybe even just take a break – cause it’d probably be good to give your brain a rest.” He continued.

      “I have to study if I want to get good grades, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi stated, glancing up briefly from his papers in a way he feared would seem cold.

      Bokuto didn’t seem bothered by the expression, though. “Aah right, you’re really smart though aren’t you Akaashi? You’re doing medicine so you’ve got to be smart!” Bokuto chirped in response, playfully punching Akaashi’s arm in the process. Akaashi felt a smirk spread across his lips because of the comment, but decided to hide it by continuing to look at his papers.

      “Not quite Bokuto-san. Medical physics. Quite different in reality.” He replied quickly. He made a mental note that he had read one line of his notes no fewer than ten separate times. He accepted that this study session would not be a fruitful one.

      Bokuto inhaled a large breath before exhaling dramatically, slumping to the table with a thud. “I’m not nearly that smart, did I tell you I got a B- on my last anatomy quiz? I B- Akaashi and I studied so hard, I might as well quit while I’m ahead if I can’t even do that!” Bokuto mumbled, not lifting his head from the table. In the couple of weeks Akaashi had frequented the café – and been bombarded with Bokuto’s conversations – he’d become used to the sudden and dramatic swings in his mood. Thankfully, Akaashi found it to be quite simple to bring him out of these slumps. He took in the sight of Bokuto for a moment, lifting his eyes from his paper to see the slightly larger man slumped pathetically on the table, forehead resting against the tabletop. Akaashi knew these frequent interruptions to his studying should bother him. He knew he should be more concerned about how his grades would be affected by a large, loud man insisting on conversation when he is clearly absorbed in his books. More importantly, he should be worried about how he can’t _really_ focus on studying when Bokuto’s voice dusts his vision with oceanic tones he can’t ignore, making any formula or problem impossible to concentrate on. Akaashi knows he _should_ be annoyed, and he _should_ be asking this over-excited stranger (he has to remind himself that yes, Bokuto is still mostly a stranger to him) to leave him alone. Despite all these things Akaashi knows, he can’t bring himself to push the man away – and he notes that he’s having an increasingly difficult time hiding the small smile that pushes at the edge of his lips when he should be pursing them out of annoyance. Akaashi inhaled a breath before flipping his notebook shut, lightly tapping Bokuto’s shoulder to gain his attention.

      “You are undoubtedly very intelligent, Bokuto-san. Choosing to pursue a career as a physical therapist means you have to know the human body well, and you also have to understand how to comfort and support people. One disappointing grade shouldn’t hold you back.” Akaashi commented. “And besides,” Akaashi continued, “I’ve received grades much lower than a B-. Don’t get discouraged.” He tried his best to maintain eye contact, consciously willing himself to continue. He knew that sort of thing comforted people.The attempts at comfort appeared to work, thankfully, as Bokuto’s childishly pouted lip was quickly sucked in and replaced with a broad grin once again.

      “Ah, you’re the best Akaashi! Anyways, don’t ditch the topic at hand. Some time off would be good for you don’t you think? I mean studying all the time can’t be good for you.” Bokuto replied eagerly, eyebrows arching up as if he was searching for approval.

      Akaashi nodded slowly, to give Bokuto the approval he was clearly looking for. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

      “Awesome Akaashi! What are you gonna do? You should do something totally new and cool I bet there are tonnes of neat things you could try out.” Bokuto started excitedly, waving his hands about in big motions.

      Akaashi clenched his jaw instinctually. He wasn’t really the best at new things, especially if those new things were _public_ things.  He was especially uncomfortable with _public_ things. Things that invigorated others, like attention being on them, exhausted him to no end. The thought of people’s eyes on him made his throat constrict. He shook his head lightly, “I’m not really interested in embarrassing myself in fantastic ways, Bokuto-san. I think I’ll just do something relaxing at home”.

      “Well you could always hang out with me? I do way more embarrassing stuff than I bet you ever do and it doesn’t bug me at all, so all the attention would be on me and people wouldn’t even be worried about you!  Plus, I think you’re cool enough as it is so we could even just hang out and watch TV and it would be fun, then you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone at all!” Bokuto said, a hint of insecurity tinting his voice. Akaashi looked up at Bokuto from his hands. A flush fell to his cheeks and brushed the tips of his ears, he silently prayed that it wasn’t noticeable.

      Akaashi thought about the proposition for a moment. Was it a date? Did Bokuto _intend_ for it to be a date, or were the finer details of what he said going over his head. Akaashi felt the blush on his cheeks deepen as he thought of a date with Bokuto, something that he really _really_ wanted. But Bokuto tended to do everything at 110%, intensity was just something that he did. Because of this, Akaashi feared he was misinterpreting what the other man was saying. He realized that the time he was taking to analyze the situation was probably far too long, considering he hadn’t given the always-anxious Bokuto a solid answer. What was the worst that could happen if he said yes?

      “Sure. That sounds like it could be fun.” Akaashi replied. He thanked any God that would listen for the fact that his voice didn’t crack in the reply. He willed the blush to leave his face, although it seemed determined to linger far beyond any appropriate length of time.

      Bokuto jumped eagerly at the approval. “Awesome! Great! It would be loads of fun I bet – but what do you like? I know you like quiet things right? Things where you don’t have to be around a bunch of people, and not being around a bunch of people could really great especially if we just want to hang out together right? Hmm…”

      The thought of Bokuto deciding an activity had Akaashi nervous. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the other man, but he acknowledged that Bokuto was _far_ more outgoing than him. Akaashi wondered if he had noticed this and was taking this into consideration, or if he just thought Akaashi was a “bit shy”. There was also Akaashi’s synesthesia that Bokuto _didn’t_ know about, and it could sometimes make busy places even more overwhelming. Akaashi’s nervous thoughts were interrupted quickly by Bokuto’s shout, indicating he had either a terrible or brilliant idea.

      “Oh! I know, do you like ice skating Akaashi?”

      Akaashi paused for a moment, hesitant at the thought. He really hadn’t been in ages, and he doubted that he would be any good at it. Still, ignoring his better judgement he replied quickly, “I haven’t been in a long time but I’m sure it could be fun.”

      “Great! No worries, you can totally ice skate on this pond that isn’t too far a walk from campus! And really, don’t worry at all about not being very good because in case you haven’t noticed I’m not very good at smooth things. I knock shit over all the time when I’m trying to do anything, but hey! I bet together we’ll be pretty awesome!” Bokuto laughed, coupling a cheesy thumbs up with a grin.

      Akaashi replied nervously, “I’m sure we will.”

      “Sweet! When works for you? We should probably do it soon because your brain is looking fried Akaashi! You know what, I don’t work at all this weekend and I only have evening classes, so that would really work for me if it works for you. Here, give me your phone really quick!” Bokuto exclaimed, sliding his phone across the table to Akaashi. Akaashi pulled his phone out from his coat pocket, draped delicately over the back of the chair. He handed it to Bokuto delicately as he picked up the other mans phone, unsure of what he was supposed to do. “We’ll swap numbers, you go ahead and figure out tonight what day you want to hang out and let me know! That way it’ll be your day off and I can just tag along right? It’ll be fun!” Bokuto furiously tapped at the phone’s keyboard, grinning as he did so. After doing the same, phones were exchanged again. “Anyways, if I don’t get back to work Kuroo’ll throw all the clean towels we have at me and I hate doing laundry so I’m gonna get back to work! I’ll see you this weekend, Akaashi!” Bokuto waved dramatically as he popped up from the chair across from Akaashi, returning to work behind the counter.

      Akaashi sighed, the space around him feeling immediately more calm after Bokuto had left. He didn’t mind the jolt of energy, though, especially since his daily life was predictable and planned. Bokuto added an element of unsureness, he was never quite sure what extravagant stunt the other man would pull. Akaashi flicked open the contact list in his phone, checking for the new entry. He slid down to the B’s, noting the new entry labelled **_Bokuto_**   ** _✌_** ** _(_** ** _◔_** ** _౪_** ** _◔_** ** _)_** _✌_ _._ He laughed lightly to himself, flipping his phone shut. He was nervous for this weekend, but the thought of seeing Bokuto left him energized. He closed his eyes and envisioned the twisting tendrils of deep green that licked the sides of his vision whenever Akaashi’s name found itself in Bokuto’s words. _How bad could it possibly be?_ Akaashi thought to himself, envisioning the two of them sliding together, unbalanced on the ice.  Akaashi swallowed hard as he found himself settling on another thought, _With him around, how bad could things possibly be?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always with the nerves when I post. Also, please spam me with bro-puns because at this rate I'm gonna run out in the next chapter. Shooting for a one-week update form here on out though!
> 
> Hopefully y'all enjoy!~

**Author's Note:**

> Again, first fic ever posted. Hoo, that's got my nerves going. Apologies for the roughness of all of this un-beta'd loosely edited 4am...whatever this is? Hopefully y'all enjoy!~


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